Preparations for the grad ball has taught me one very important skill: making proposals. Here is my best one to date...

Name of Project: beAChed in Bora!

Date: April 16-21, 2004

Venue: accomodations in Fat Jimmy's; inumans in Cocomanggas, Bombom, et al; a nice dinner in Banza (c/o our male borders); celebrity sightings by the beach; the most beautiful sand castles by nightfall; henna tatoos by d' mall... oh and that elusive, much awaited boy toy...

Rational: 5 days and 4 nights of booze, boys, bonding and the beach! This is self-explanatory!

People in Charge and their responsibilites:
Parents- (if you're lucky) payment of the entire trip plus pocket money

You and your friends- Have your last hurrah before college!

See attached:
Dress Code: Less is definetely more!

Budget: Sky's the limit or down under... (in my case, it's the latter)

Signed and Approved by: sign your name here

Today marks the end of almost half a decade of school, friends, teachers… 4 years of life.

To say I’ve served my purpose is an assumption all together. High school is taught in school. But the final exam is in the real world. Out there, every man is an island. It’s a dog-eat-dog world where you are the dog.

I can only do so much to save myself from the onslaught that is to come. But I can hope. I can hope that 4 years of Assumption education has molded me into someone of character. I can hope that my character is tough enough to withstand the abrasions that I will suffer. I can hope to recover from the head on collisions that are waiting to happen.

I can hope. I can hope hard. I can hope strong.

But I can also act.

And be more pro-active.

I was down to the final 2 minutes of high school. The buzzer sounded. And now… it’s over.

1. Have you ever cursed white or natural light for highlighting your flaws? Are your armpits dark even when there's light?
2. Have you ever felt your fat in very obscure body parts? Do you have layers of skin peeping out of your arm area when you wear tube tops? Is there anything on your back aside from skin and bones?
3. Have you ever felt that your face has a life, make that an ecosytem, of its own?

If you've answered NO to any or all of the questions, I suggest you stop reading this entry NOW. You are part of the silent majority who has been blessed with good skin and a near perfect body. But... If you've affirmed any of the above statements, please read on.

I don't like the fact that my dermatologist makes so much money out of me. I find myself forever willing to pay the hefty P2130 price tag facials come with. I've even deviced head stiffening methods that help me cope with the pain of pricking. This comes in handy when the dermatologist gets really engrossed in removing my blemishes.

Aside from zits, another thing that courts my ire is fat. Oh yes, it's the dreaded 3 letter word! It's so dreaded that my friend, Marga, has made a career out of fat (not fact) finding! During a Friday flag retreat, she discovered a 2 cm by 2 cm square shaped region of fat... in my back! Talk about obscurity!

My body insecurities are so big in number that I've filled a whole blackboard with it.

I guess this only proves that I am a certified, scientifically proven, medically diagnosed media baby. Read: I think beauty is defined by GREAT skin (in all parts of the body- pits, kness, and everything else) and a great bod. I revere girls my age who keep a low to no maintenance skin regimen and yet manage to have great skin. For me, people who have Phoemela-ish bodies with karpintero-ish appetites are put on a pedestal.

Ok, Maya Angelou (proponent of the Phenomenal Woman craze) can shoot me now.

But I haven't sunk into tragic depression and self pity... yet. Through time, I've learned to live with what I have and just like in Economics, pay the opporutnity cost for choosing, rather, being the other option- the one with a far from perfect body and complexion. In spite of the countless mornings I've cursed the high heavens for finding my soul in the same yucky body, there are other less trivial things to be thankful for.

Sure, I am a tetracycline (500 mg, please) junkie and benzoyl peroxide aficionado but I've managed to be happy and content. That is all that matters. *bow*

During the Graduation Ball:
HER: Hey, meet my date. (Ang tagal ko na siyang mass crush!)
ME (with a big smile): Hi!
DATE: Hi. You know what, I saw you in mass last Sunday.
ME (dying, just dying): Yeah? Was this at 6 o'clock? (Of course, I knew it was at 6! My radar is ALWAYS on the look out for YOU during mass!)
DATE: Yeah... (God knows what he said after that. The music was so loud, I couldn't hear him.)
ME: (Project nalang at nagsmile dahil sa kilig.)

After that incident, I knew the night couldn't get any better.

When I entered, Enan's (my designer) creations came to life. To each her own design, none of his 5 muses looked alike as styles ranged from classic to eccentric. I doned a pistachio green tube dress with an aqua blue collar and beaded sash. (Click on my gallery to view snapshots of it.) Hey, I felt so good in it that I didn't need a date to back me up.

Speaking of dates, I didn't have one but I'm proud to say I received 2 corsgaes and a posy. Acutally, I was able to get a feel of how it was to have a date because of the couple time I spent with my friends and their dates. Here's a rundown:

~Tin and Ayo- They made a fun pair. So fun that he drove us all the way to Alabang for some drinks just to find out that the Vivere rooftop was already closed. At one point, they even allowed me to call the shots and decide where to go instead. Thanks for the posy Tin!
~Faith and Toff- In true Candy Mag style, they posed away in our Oakwood pictorial. Love ko talaga tong dalawang to kasi sa kanila ako nakisakay papuntang school. Thanks for the corsage and Tequila shot Toff! In my heart, they are the rightful winners of the love ko to award.
~Julia and Mon- This guy hates my guts but it was really nice of him to offer to bring me home... but not to Alabang. Thanks!

The after party was nothing I expected but it was fun nonetheless. Over shots of Tequila in Absinth with Toff and Lisa, the prude in me took over. I dropped all shot glasses after (just!) two rounds and decided to hunt for food. This was pretty much in vain because we had to attend to another friend who needed us as she released her innermost emotions. This girl knows what I'm talking about.

I knew I had a blast because when I hit the sack, I felt happy and content. I didn't have a date and at one point in the night, I felt like my boobs were down to my waist, but I had fun... a lot of fun.

Grad Ball rating out of 5:

I, (state your name), not yet of legal age but pretends to be anyway, do solmenly swear to be a responsible drinker. I will abide by the constitutional limit of 0.8% alcohol content in my bloodstream in Boracay, parties and wherever alcoholic beverages are present.

In the event that I go beyond the legal limit and begin to get tipsy or in extreme cases start crying or rolling on the grass , I promise to control myself. Control would mean the regulation and limitation of the release of by-products like excess air (farts and burps) and vomit. I also promise not to talk too much too loudly and wear my heart on my sleeve. I will control my mouth and think before I speak. I will not reveal secrets and other embarassing anecdotes that I will regret saying later on. Neither will I get violent or carry Starbucks umbrellas on my shoulder. I may be lightheaded but I am not Superman.

In case tables are turned and my friends are the ones who get drunk, I promise to take care of them. I will offer my assistance in whatever way I can to ensure their safety. Lastly, I will not take use that situation as blackmail. I will not take pictures of my friends wasted or tell anyone else what really happened. What happens in an inuman, stays in an inumuan, whatever the cost.

So help me God.
_____________________________________
I declare summer 2004 officially open!

Eveyyting si a blur aftre a nihgt of dringkning. Yuo wke up wit a horribel hangovr and see yuor world spining.

That is usually the case for me during post inuman mornings but not today.

In fact this morning, I just realized that last night was a last of sorts. That was the last time my class partied as section 3. The sight of drunk people crying at an unusually early happy hour is something I'll miss. There will be no more earth shattering revelations of who likes who and what-not. The switch from sobriety to inebriety will take on a totally new meaning as we go to college.

Last night was also one of our last batch parties. Save for some in the summer and one tonight, Mara's party was the last hurrah. To be honest, I am a neophyte, make that, a no fight in these batch parties but I am one who never declines free booze.

Anyway, Pepato proved to be too small for all the lookers present last night. Some dudes looked good (even with the nursing aura surrounding them), others looked the same while some... looked... disarmingly good. Funny what a couple of months can do to people.

Nowadays, time is of essence because as the lights are turned down low and the last beer bottles are emptied, we bid our friends goodbye and conquer yet another territory, college.

      With the declaratation of summer, I expected to have fun. Tonight, I have my lucky stars to thank for conspiring against me. (That didn't sound right.)

      At this point, I really feel like Hamlet- a prisoner in my home. Yes oh yes, it's a Satruday night and I will be spending it (drum roll please) at home. This is a simple lesson in geography: I live in Alabang while everyone is in Makati. It'll take gas and toll money to get me to where the action is and sad to say, I have none. Sometimes, I really hate having CLEAN lungs. That, by the way, is the reason we've been stationed, thrown of and evicted to this side of the world. The lesson to be learned is pretty simple: don't consider living here if you consider having Makati as the center of your life.

      Next, I feel really bloated and have been a weighing scale delinquent. I ate sukiyaki, rhum cake and a 2 piece burger steak meal in a a span of 4 hours. Can you imagine the carbo overload? To make things worse, my mantra is that exercise belongs to the devil. I believe that the best exercise for my lazy ass is sitting down, for my arms, it's typing on the keyboard and for my tummy, a tummy tuck- breathing in when my shirts are tight and my pants are low rise. What's wrong with me? Pinaparusahan na ba ako ni Lord sa lahat ng mga panlalait ko?

      Well, that is not to say that the whole weekend will be sung on a shitty note. I AM looking forward to hitting the beach with friends who have been reduced to acquaintances. The beach will serve as witness to all the catching up we have to do. Also, I will get my head start on tanning, jet-skiing, drinking and all the others -ings you can think of. The best part is that it's all FREE! I just hope all plans will be carried out this time and things will not fall apart. The last thing I'd want to happen is to get thrown off a jetski in my suman-ish bikini.

      This second entry will suffice for the next three days. The reluctant eating machine is signing of.

      After 3 scorching hot summer days, 2 back breaking (well, not really but almost) jet ski falls and 1 aching/burnt body later, I return to civilization with the realization that friendships have shelf lives. Some expire years after their first opening while some can be considered non-perishable.

      I went to the beach with the hope of mending a (sorta kinda) fallout I had with an erstwhile close friend. But I came home where I left off: empty handed. I guess you can blame me because the disparity here was that I chose to complicate our friendship after... Sandali, bakit nga ba? I chose to just walk away from it all during the latter half of high school. Now, whenever we find ourselves in the same place, nothing more than hi is said. Ok fine, there are really stupid attempts to catch up with each other but we drift off before the stories get juicy. And so goes, the shelf life of our friendship was a good 2 years, not 2 of the best but 2 of the most fun years.

      In spite of that, the sand and waves of Batangas have seen sunnier days. One of my closest friendships started in the beach. I've spent time with some of the most unique characters you'll meet. I've jetskied, been thrown off and jetskied again with blind people who are on a constant road rage. I've had some of the most interesting conversations and inumans under a star lit sky. I've actually swum in the middle of Nowhere Sea. I've even gone boating under the influence of lightning bolts. These are the trade offs of going to the beach with people (actually, just 1 person) you're not so comfortable with. Even after so many summers, those are the friendships you consider semi to non-perishable.

      With a new tan comes with a new plan. Not exactly in the friendship department but in the exercise department. I've decided to call the gym my second home after being with Bora bodies for a weekend. Just so I can warn those of you who plan to go to Boracay, 3 of the killer bodies I was with will be there the same time as us. If you do not plan to just gawk and stare, I suggest you start working on your figures NOW! Those 3 killer bods who will remain nameless do not stop at anything to get flat tummies and great abs even if it means less munching and more crunching. I spent enough time in the insecurity room. I don't plan to open the Boracay chapter.

      Happy summer everyone!